Teppan-Yucky

(My husband and I made plans to celebrate our anniversary at a local teppanyaki restaurant (i.e. a Japanese place where they cook the food in front of you). The teppanyaki tables usually seat 10-12 people, so you call ahead to make reservations and they group patrons together. This is what happens when we walk in.)

Husband: “Reservation for seven o’clock for [Last Name].”

Host: “Follow me, please…”

(The host begins to walk to the other side of the restaurant, away from the teppanyaki tables.)

Me: “Umm… we reserved the teppanyaki table.”

Host: “…”

Husband & Me: “…”

Host: “What was that name?”

Husband: “It’s [Last Name].”

Host: “They’ve already started cooking; you can’t join the table.”

Me: “How can they already be cooking? We made reservations.”

Husband: “Over the phone they said we were the first to book a table for tonight.”

(The host then scurries away without a word. We peek around the corner to the area with the teppanyaki tables, and see that there is only one table set for service for the night, with a middle-aged man and two little girls sitting at it. The host has a quick conversation with the man before rushing back over to us.)

Host: “They said it’s okay for you to join their table.”

Me: “They’ve already started… When is the next table going to start?”

Host: “We aren’t going to do any other teppanyaki tables tonight.”

(We sit at the table with the man and his two kids, while the three of them shot death glares at us and the staff keeps coming over and apologizing to him about the situation. They also gave the three of them appetizers and desserts on the house “to apologize for the trouble.” We also receive half-sized portions of the food, never get drinks, etc. I ask for a manager.)

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

(I explain the situation. The manager goes and talks to the host, then comes back up to me.)

Manager: “When that man came in at seven, they looked at the reservations and saw that someone was down for seven. They assumed he had made the reservation.”

Husband: “Even though it was under our name? The name we gave when we came here? For a party of two, and there was three of them?”

Manager: “Sorry, yes. I told them to make your apps and dessert on the house as an apology.”

Me: “You mean the stuff they gave to the other family?”

Manager: “Would you like a coupon for next time?”

Husband: “I don’t think we’ll be back…”